


Words Left Unsaid

by Skuld09



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: AU: Cop beat partners, F/F, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4916806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skuld09/pseuds/Skuld09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 12: buddy cop AU where they are partners</p><p>On a hot summers day a broken traffic light would big two of the unlikeliest persons together in a way that neither of them expected. Would it end in pain?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> I might have diverged from the topic a little but this is what I got! Hope you like it!

Los Angeles, a city of fame, sun, and beaches, but it was also a land of drugs and violent crime. It took great endurance and dedication to stay above the law, to not be tempted, to uphold their oath of protecting and serve. It was what attracted barely 25 year old Brenda Leigh Johnson to LA in the first place. Yes there was a lot of controversy, her parents didn’t like her so far away, even if she saw it as trading one coast for the other, or in a place so fraught with danger. Will wouldn’t be happy in seeing her, the newly remarried captain would not be happy with her being there, not when he was trying to start “fresh and new” with his new wife.

Regardless of her parents and Will, Brenda entered the police station with her head held high, blonde curls twisted tightly together in the neatest bun that she has even done, uniform pressed in all the right places, and her platform shoes in a rhythm that just demanded attention. Other fellow officers, uniform and detectives alike, turned their heads to look at her. She stopped just in the center of the foyer, it was her order to be there and wait for her assignment; the area that she was in charge of patrolling, the car number, and her partner. She looked around and of course a majority of her fellow boys in blue were boys, not the first time she was in a situation with so few females. In fact she was one of three in her academy class back in Atlanta and yet ranked in the top five.

Other than her there was five other females, at least that she could see and who would be on this shift. One had short black hair that just made the length requirement to not be tied back, anything touching their shoulders had to be tied back. The new and old males were identified by not only their rugged appearances but their hair as well, those who were new went for the military buzz cut while the older generation could care less. The clear difference between the military clean and the grizzly. Some had long hair, full curls, balding or full bald heads. The other female that was closes to her, one that she could see, memorized her.

Her hair was this brilliant shade of brown, going back and forth between a caramel and chocolate brown. Though it was pinned back in a bun similar to hers Brenda could tell that her hair had this range of completely straight to curls, the humidity, though not as great as in Atlanta, must have triggered it. Her skin was this pale color and yet had this under tone tannest to it at least that was the best way she could describe it. Her hat was tucked into the crook of her elbow and her green eyes were enhanced by the pair of black frame glasses she wore. From where she stood, Brenda could make out what she believed to be an ‘R’ on the brunette’s patch that was on the left side just above her left breast pocket, which was similar to hers excepts hers said ‘Johnson’.

“All right people listen up!” The limited side conversations quite down and attention was turned to African American male who stood in the front of the room in front of the sign that said ‘Los Angeles Police Department' on the wall. “Today is going to be a very busy day, right now we are in prime rush hour traffic, even though it is LA and we are always in rush hour traffic I am talking bumper to bumper grid lock her people. To make matters worse we have three different traffic lights that blacked out which in addition to patrolling you will also be rotating on who will be directing traffic on which intersection, so be prepared people. First team would pick up a vest and a whistle. Here are the pairs for today.”  He rattled off the seemingly endless list of names and Brenda could tell that some of the officers were only half listening, the older patrol cops just knew who their partners were going to be and what beat they were going to take because they have been doing it for so long. It got louder as people started to move around so that they could stand next to their partners, some even started to leave because they had to starting moving to those broken intersection lights.

Then all of the sudden it got quite, everyone stopped in place and was looking at her, she didn’t know why and she blamed in on the noise because she could barely hear. With the sudden silence she could hear just fine, and it made her stomach drop.

“Johnson and Raydor!” Brenda has heard of Raydor before; hard ass, rule oriented, and if the rumors serve true only took the job to pay for her husbands through law school. Most of the officers, both in and out of uniform, hated her because she spent most of her time as a kiss ass, always smooshing over officers who were that of higher rank, which wasn’t a bad thing in it of itself except for the fact that she preferred the ones in the mayor’s office. There was a rumor going around even today that she’s sleeping with someone from within even with her constant voice of marriage. She was the absolutely worse partner for Brenda, at least she thought she was.

It also didn’t help that Raydor was one of the five females other than her on the force. That caramel/ chocolate brunette that she wasn’t quite admiring stood before her and in a voice that was soft yet authoritative said, “Officer Johnson,” placing herself squarely in front of Brenda.

“Officer Raydor.” Brenda gave her an acknowledge nod and she held out her hand for Officer Raydor to take, after all this was their first formal meeting and her daddy always say when you meet someone new, even if you didn’t like them, you shook their hand. Officer Raydor hesitated for a moment before shifting her hat to the other elbow and taking Brenda’s hand into her own. It was only a second before Officer Raydor released her hand. “Shall we get going?”

“Lets. I’m driving though, we cannot afford to get lost.” Brenda gasped and opened her mouth to protest but Officer Raydor was already walking away, her form growing smaller as she headed in the direction of the parking lot that was only used for patrol cars. Brenda huffed and almost went into a slow jog to catch up with the retreating form of Officer Raydor. Even though the swing of Raydor’s hips provided to be a great distraction in being almost abandoned by her so called partner. With the way that all of the bulky equipment made every swing more pronounce, more sharp, and the material of their police uniform trousers tighten ever so around Officer Raydor’s nicely shaped cheeks making them more pronounced and a little bigger, yet still being the perfect size for squeezing…

Why Brenda thought about squeezing another women buttocks was completely beyond her and completely inappropriate. Her focus needs to be on the streets not on Officer Raydor’s backside.

As she went to catch up to her partner for the day she swore she heard another officer say ‘there goes the bitch of Atlanta and Darth Raydor’ but she couldn’t be positive and even if she was right the last thing she needed was to paint a target on her back.

‘ _The time is now 2:30pm here in Los Angeles and it is hot hot hot! The current temperature is 85 degrees with an over 50% humidity so watch your hair ladies!’_ The radio jockey laughed at his own joke as they listened to a random radio station that Officer Raydor had turned the radio to when Brenda was finally able to catch up with her. Officer Raydor was already behind the wheel of the patrol car, revved up and ready to go like as though Brenda’s tardiness was keeping her. She was messing with the stations, giving no indication that she was looking for a particular one, stopping at the one she was currently on when Brenda climbed into the passenger’s seat. According to Officer Raydor when she turned to the station she said it was because they needed to assess the situation, to remain focused on their duties and not what was happening on the other side of town. Brenda just rolled her eyes and let Officer Raydor have it her way, she wasn’t already happy in the fact that they were the first up for traffic direction. With the siren on silent they rode the shoulder on 110 to go all the way down to south Los Angeles.

‘ _Here is Carrie with the traffic report’_

_‘Well John if you are home or are planning to stay where you are for the next three hours or so than I suggest doing that because we are in complete grid lock here. From Santa Monica to El Monte, Upper LA to Downtown LA we are in bumper to bumper traffic. Currently there are three intersection that are down but I have word that the LA police are on their way to get traffic moving here. That is our 3:00 traffic report and we will have another in an hour now back to you John.’_

Brenda suppressed the urge to bang her head against the head rest as the radio show continued on from there. It was like riding in the car with her mother who had an addiction to one of the various country stations in Georgia, specifically the one that played those Christmas songs that she loved so much. It was because of her mother that she had an increase dislike for radio stations of all kinds, she only agreed to this because she wanted to be on the right foot with Officer Raydor.

She almost cheered when they pulled up to their intersection of Spring Street at Fifth Street. A four way intersecting with two pedestrian crossings, all of which was packed and just like the CO said, bumper to bumper, as a result horns can be heard, loud and obnoxious like it could accomplish something.

“So how ya wanna do this?” Brenda looked at Officer Raydor who had taken the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. The thin piece of flesh skid across the edges of her teeth, going from one corner to the other.

“We have an increasing problem. Heat, traffic, and a large wave of pedestrians once that middle school ends its afternoon programs are going to be against us.”

“Did you want to get traffic started and then once we have a steady pace worry about the pedestrians?”

“That sounds a good as plan as any.”

“What does that mean?” She didn’t get a response, Officer Raydor just climbed out of the car like as though she hadn’t said anything to begin with. Brenda huffed and grumbled, “That woman” under her breath before she too got out of the patrol car. The honking became louder when she stepped onto the streets and she ignored it as best she could as she went to join Officer Raydor at the trunk of the car. They each put on one of the two florescent green vest that Officer Raydor somehow miraculously had the time to pick up and place into the trunk before Brenda could even reach the car and in one Officer Raydor’s hands was the whistle.

“I will be the one to direct the main flow while you direct the turn lanes, we do that until we start seeing heavy signs of pedestrians and then we switch off.” It was a tactical discussion, a must for any cop on the job to make sure the situation stays controlled. So why did Brenda have this nagging feeling that Officer Raydor was talking down to her? It was there, that feeling in the deep depths of her stomach, and she couldn’t shake it. Brenda decided to ignore it and with a huff to her starting position pointed out by Officer Raydor. “Is there a problem Officer Johnson?” Brenda turned back to look Officer Raydor directly in the eye.

“No, no problem at all Officer Raydor.” Officer Raydor gave her a firm nod, a gesture that meant she was dismissed, and that feeling came back again, chewing on the lining of her stomach, almost cramp like, and it drove her insane. When she reached the corner she told the few pedestrians that were waiting to cross what she and her, she used the term loosely, partner were going to do. Some of the pedestrians were okay with waiting just a little longer while others were, of course, a little peeved off and made her explain it over and over on why she wanted them to wait which didn’t make her temper any better. Heat plus bubbling feelings over partner and now uncooperative pedestrians, it could only end one of two ways and she hoped to god that it ended in a way that didn’t jeopardize her job.

Within an hour Brenda had circled the block at least ten times, with each circle she ended up at the exact same corner which she started. Some sections were easier for after the second round most of the intersections were clear but despite that when she tried to go to another intersection or lingered at one for too long a glare from Officer Raydor was sent her way. At first she ignored it, did what she felt was right and followed the original pattern but just stayed at the intersection that needed her more than an empty one. When all of the intersections were completely clear she went back to the patrol car to get some water and to finally turn the police scanner on, she felt weird with being cut off from her fellow officers. Through the windshield she saw Officer Raydor’s glare, olive green eyes hard and trained on her. Brenda just looked at her, taking some form of satisfaction in the fact that she was raddling the great and middy Officer Raydor. In the distance was a group of kids which meant switch off. In full stride Brenda approached Officer Raydor, both of them fully aware on what she wanted. Officer Raydor sighed through her nose before handing over the whistle to her, taking Brenda’s original post at the corner of the intersection.

To protect the middle schoolers all traffic was halted so that they could safely cross the street, Brenda hated to admit it but Officer Raydor did a good job in bringing down the backed up traffic, not many cars were left so holding them back wasn’t that hard and the middle schoolers didn’t come in waved like normal pedestrians, they were all together and once they crossed Brenda and Officer Raydor didn’t have to worry about them for the duration of their shift. In some sort of twist of cruel fate no pedestrians came after the middle schoolers so Officer Raydor decided it was a perfect time to get some water.

But unlike Brenda who sat inside of the patrol car Officer Raydor sat on the hood of the car, the hood! She just sat right down there with one foot on the bumper and Brenda swore that Officer Raydor undid a button or two but couldn’t prove it with the few glimpses she was given between cars. What she could prove was that when Officer Raydor removed her hat the sweat in her hair brought out the caramel color from the chocolate brown. That and Officer Raydor had decided to drink out of _her_ water bottle, like as though Officer Raydor had decided to completely ignore the unopened and perfectly good bottle and use hers instead. She knew it was hers because the pink lipstick that she uses stained the rim, exactly where Officer Raydor placed her lips, it made a warm kind of feeling wash over her even in the heat.

And then a car honked at her, which brought her back to what she was supposed to be doing, which was directing traffic, not thinking about this strange warm feeling that Officer Raydor was giving her. Even if that feeling changed from a soft warm one to a harsh heat as Officer Raydor started to look directly at her, scrutinizing every single movement that she made. Every movement, no matter how micro, Brenda took it as scrutiny. The slight twitch of the eyebrow? She let that car make a too wide of a turn. The picking of lint off of her pant leg? She kept the flow going for just a fraction too long. Flutter of the eye? Her shoulders slumped just a little on that last signal because god forbid that she couldn’t keep her  arms in a straight line for hours on end. That was when Officer Raydor tried to relieve her, giving her this soft kind of smile that reminded her of her mother, soft and giving off this vibe of warmth and trust, and Brenda would have fell for it if she didn’t think that Officer Raydor wasn’t trying to make her look incompetent, like she needed to be saved.

“That is quite all right Officer Raydor I can handle it just fine.” Was her response as she turned to the next intersection to let start it, at this point they were only getting the occasional highway way traffic, those who were either getting on or getting off the 110.

“Officer Johnson I must insist that we switch. You have been directing traffic for a good three hours in 100 degree heat, it is now seven o’clock and we are expecting rush hour traffic at any moment, the last thing that we need is to create a traffic standoff because of a rapidly declining officer.” Traffic standoff, that was the wording Officer Raydor decided to use, thought Brenda knew what she was trying to say. Apparently Officer Raydor thought that she was a policer caused accident waiting to happen.

“Are you saying I’m lazy Officer Raydor?”

“Not at all but right now we are expected to experience a high volume of traffic that is in our time frame any minute now and I would feel more comfortable with a rested and prepared officer to one that has been standing in the sun for excessive hours. In fact I am worried about you Officer Johnson because you are starting to flush. Are you feeling all right?”

“I feel completely fine.” Brenda huffed and turned to the next section. She knew that she was currently looking like a freshly cooked salmon. She didn’t need Officer Raydor to tell her that she had sun burn around her cheeks and neck, she mentally kicked herself in the ass for forgetting to put on sunscreen before she left her apartment, despite being born and raised in the harsh Georgia sun she still burned easily. Even with her back to her Brenda could feel the presence of Officer Raydor.

Just as she was going to turn to start the next intersection she felt Officer Raydor grip her elbow, it made both a cool and burning vice grip, and spun her around. Face to face she was forced to look Officer Raydor in the eye, her brown eyes emphasized by her bright pink cheeks meeting Officer Raydor’s cool pale olive green, the first time that she had seen them not behind Officer Raydor’s black framed glasses. Her flushed appearance was matched by her breathing, slow and shallow, and in her tired state she was completely transfixed by Officer Raydor’s cool domineer, the only evidence to her breathing was the slight rise of her breast, leading to the conclusion that Brenda was right in the fact that Officer Raydor had indeed unbutton a few buttons. It was grounds for being written up and yet writing Officer Raydor a summons was the furthest idea from Brenda’s mind, just like the whistle that was slowly coming untwined from her fingers.

Before she knew it Officer Raydor had taken the whistle and maneuvered herself into the very some spot that Brenda had been standing in for the last three hours meaning that rather she liked it or not she the duty of directing traffic was given to Officer Raydor. It was completely out of her control but that didn’t mean she would be happy about it, she stomped her way to the patrol car, plotting her revenge.

‘ _Say goodbye to rush hour traffic! Here in LA it is almost eight o’clock and we are witnessing those last  bit of people who have gotten off their nine to five jobs making their way home and traffic is starting to thin out. Those large grid traffic blocks that we had earlier in the afternoon are now a thing of the past but the LAPD are still going to be at those intersections until those light come back on or until the night emergency lights come on…’_

The radio show drowned on, either on the same or different station than the one before Brenda couldn’t tell nor cared, only that once again Officer Raydor had switched it back. Brenda didn’t care this time, after grabbing the remaining water bottle she followed Officer Raydor’s example and sat on the hood of the patrol car. She watched and waited, waited for the perfect time for the traffic to be at the right flow, steady but with some spacing between cars, until she undid a few buttons on her own shirt, going a button further down that Officer Raydor did, crossing that thin line of showing off her bra.

Right off the bat she had Officer Raydor’s attention, her movements slowed when Brenda was undoing that last button and Brenda flexed her shoulders for good measure, making the material part just the right amount to let the edge of her bra cup show. She took great satisfaction when she saw Officer Raydor stumble just a little when she tuned to go to the next intersection. From then she made sure to do something that would catch the eye of Officer Raydor. Water dripping down her neck to her chest? An almost screw up with hand signals that Officer Raydor remedied in the same second that she made the mistake. Bending over to expose the inner deaths of her shirt? The whistle fell from Officer Raydor’s mouth mid blow, which created a very gapping Officer Raydor. Laying on the roof of the patrol car and playing with the edge of the button flap? She couldn’t say exactly but there was a screech of car tires and horns honking, which made her smile.

 It was all very satisfying.

Sunset. In LA Sunset was a beautiful sight, for Brenda it was like a beacon of hope, it signaled the end of her very long shift of traffic direction. It was uncharacteristically silent within the patrol car, Officer Raydor had turned the volume nob to the lowest setting which wasn’t mute but close enough, as a police car the volume could not be turned down all the way. After leaving the intersection in the hands of the relieving officers Officer Raydor didn’t say a word, she just got behind the wheel of the car and drove away.

Brenda thought that she was peeved. Peeved at the fact that by the time the relieving officers had come she was presentable, uniform back in place, buttoned up and hat firmly on her head unlike Officer Raydor who still had those two little buttons undone. Compared to Brenda she looked a little disheveled and it earned her a little eyebrow raise from one of the officers. From that point on Officer Raydor was just this one big silent ball of furry and Brenda couldn’t be more ecstatic.

When they reached the station Officer Raydor barely put the patrol car into park when she threw open the car door and stormed off. Brenda just looked at the space Officer Raydor once occupied, first in shock and then in satisfaction, bubbles of laughter leaving her throat. She had done it. She had made the mighty Officer Raydor snap, and that was grounds for celebration.

One of the advantages for there being so few females on the force was that their locker room was never as crowded or traveled through like the males, which Brenda appreciated.  Being the only girl in a house of boys offered her little privacy, there was always someone barging in or wanting to barge in. The locker room at the Atlanta police academy was the first time that she had actually experienced the concept of privacy, and here in LA it was continued. By the looks of the lockers only ten looked like they were actually assigned and this included hers. At her locker she took out her large black handbag that she used for everything and almost anything and remove the towel and the small bag of toiletries, which was just the small bar of soap and tiny shampoo bottle that she got from the hotel she was staying at before moving in to her apartment that she kept on refilling. She then proceeded to strip down to her undergarments, separating the different pieces of her uniform before placing them into the bag, some in her locker for there was no reason for her to carry them with her. After putting the bag into the locker she then went to the shower area.

Though in the complete privacy of her own gender and solitude Brenda could never get use in showering without a shower curtain. There was always this weird feeling on her skin as she stood there, water beating down her body, naked for the world to see. It was easier to ignore the feeling as she continued to tell herself that she was alone with little chance of someone barging in who didn’t belong. She made it through washing her hair before she was forcefully dragged out of the shower, the bar of soap falling out of her hands. She was two seconds away from screaming but the person who thought it was a good idea to drag her out of the shower by her arm placed their hand over her mouth. It was when her brown eyes met distinctive pale green ones that Brenda’s eyes hardened and pushed the hand away.

“Officer Raydor have you completely lost your mind!?”

“I can say the same to you! What do you think you were doing? Were you trying to make a complete laughing stock of the entire LAPD?”

“Funny how it only seems to be you who is affected by my supposed inflammatory actions. Do you have any proof that I was acting in such a manner?  Video? Eye witness statements?” With every question Officer Raydor tensed up, her body becoming ridged, the hand that was still on her arm tightened to a point that Brenda thought it might bruise.

“Proof. You want proof? I can show you proof.” For a second Brenda feared the great unknown, regretting what she had done. She was going to apologize, preparing for the slap or something that she more than well deserved, but then Officer Raydor did something that was completely unexpected.

Officer Raydor kissed her. It wasn’t on her lips but her neck, her lips grazing both on and below her jaw bone. Brenda gasped, which was when she actually felt the pad of Officer Raydor’s thumb just pressing on the hollow of her throat, giving it enough pressure to keep her chin in place while not cutting off her air. It didn’t end with that one kiss, Officer Raydor kissed her again and again, sometimes using just her lips, but then there were the other times where she would scrape her bottom teeth across Brenda’s skin, or she would take her tongue and drag it along the length of her neck either from chin to ear or jaw to shoulder. Brenda learned that Officer Raydor liked the hollowed out places, most of brunette officer’s time was concentrated between that small space between her jaw and ear and the space between her neck and shoulder which was where most of the damage was. Officer Raydor bit, scrapped, licked, and sucked at that one part of her body, the effect of each action mirrored by the one before it. It made Brenda feel drained, almost weak, and she clung to Officer Raydor for dear life. When Officer Raydor finally lifted herself from her skin it was the first time that they were finally able to breathe, each breath rapid and shallow.

Surprisingly Brenda didn’t start screaming, demanding to know the reason behind Officer Raydor’s sudden actions. Instead she looked Officer Raydor dead in the eye and smashed their lips together, hers all but covering Officer Raydor’s. Officer Raydor tensed slightly, all dominancy that she once displayed left her, it made it easy for Brenda to drag her into the shower stall that she was taken out of. The now cold water beat down on them, making the uniform that Officer Raydor was still wearing heavy and both cling to her skin and yet sag, and they both fumbled with trying to turn off the water, making the spray worse instead of better. It made Brenda pull away from Officer Raydor so that she could actually shut off the water, it squeaked then gurgled before actually dying, Brenda’s bar of soap gone without a trace. Panting, Officer Raydor took a step or two away from Brenda, her shoes squeaking against the wet tile.

“This…you…I…we.” Officer Raydor stuttered over what she wanted to say, like as though she didn’t know what to say, which was a first for Brenda. Brenda took a step closer to Officer Raydor but she backed away, moving the shoulder that was in the line of Brenda’s outstretched hand back. An instigator now looking like a complete victim, unbelievable. Brenda sighed in annoyance and pushed past Officer Raydor to wrap herself in the towel that she left on the bench just outside the shower stall. “Officer Johnson…”

“You know I have put up with a lot of your attitude today. With you talking down to me like I’m some insubordinate.” Brenda huffed when she got herself tangled in her own bra, the back twisted but at least clasped together which she would just have to deal with. “And you acting like you know better than everyone else, like you have a solution to every problem well I have news for you!” She pulled the t-shirt over her head, pulling at the ends harshly. “I was the one who came up with the plan when you didn’t even have one and what did you say to that? ‘That sounds as good as plan as any’. Just what is that supposed to mean huh? If you had come up with a better plan I would have loved to hear it!” With a quick slam to her locker Brenda hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, her hand gripping the straps. “And then you have the audacity to come in here, verbally attack me, and then do _that_ , with no prompt or explanation. So I ask you this Officer Raydor what is it that you want from me? When you figure that out come and find me.” With one last huff she turned to leave, her sneakers making a hard loud exit.

Brenda made two detours on her way back to her apartment, one to the Chinese place where she had place an order in for carry out and another at the bodega that was across the street from her apartment for a nice bottle of merlot. In the confines of her apartment she changed for the third time that day into a tank top, finally ridding herself of that twisted bra, and a pair of cotton shorts that were clean, she made a mental note to do laundry on her next day off. She then poured herself a nice glass of wine and took it and the take out boxes into the living room, her coffee table was the only one inside her apartment. As she ate she contemplated on rather or not to turn on the TV, the news was a great source on what might be going on inside the LAPD. Other than that she liked to watch the occasional hottest police drama in for the sheer joy of ridiculing on how bad their protocol or interrogation technics might be, television very rarely got it right. By the time ten o’clock came around she was curled up on her couch, take out boxes empty and half the bottle was gone, watching yet another cookie cutter plot line when there was a knock on her door. Turning the TV off she went to answer the door.

“Officer Raydor?” Out of uniform Brenda almost didn’t recognize the woman that was on her door step. Officer Raydor was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a plain black t-shirt that Officer Raydor might have worn underneath her uniform. Her hair was down, falling in thick chocolate caramel waves around her face and shoulders. Her olive green eyes were left open without the blockade of her glasses. “What are you doing here?”

“I have an answer for you.” Brenda was going too asked for what but then Officer Raydor pushed herself into her apartment, smashing her lips to Brenda’s. Taken back Brenda’s eyes widen but her body quickly relaxed, arms wrapping around Officer Raydor’s neck. In some show of strength Officer Raydor picked her up from the floor, her legs quickly wrapping around the brunette’s round waist. Officer Raydor tried to set her smoothly on the couch, something that was hard to do with her limbs wrapped so tightly around her. Her legs did loosen just a little bit, which might not have been a good idea with one of her legs now dangling helplessly off the edge. Officer Raydor picked up right where she left off, kissing down to the hollow of her throat, spending the most time in that one area.

All the while hands roamed. One of Officer Raydor’s hands traveled up and down her torso, the hem of her tank top raising higher and higher until she had unlimited access to the bare skin. The other was warm on her thigh, creating an increasing warming spot. Hers were desperate, clinging to anything her nails could touch, scraping against the thin material of her shirt until she reached skin. From there it was free access to the skin on Officer Raydor’s back and hips, nails scrapping, claiming, Officer Raydor tensed when she did a particularly long scratch that went along the curve of her hip, her leg went slack and she almost stepped on Brenda’s foot.

Unlike Officer Raydor who stopped pushing her shirt when she hit the curve of her breast Brenda pushed past it, hands grazing. From the feel she believed that Officer Raydor’s bra was cotton, it was smooth yet padded. Officer Raydor moaned against her skin, it created this pleasant buzz on the area. She then lifted herself off of Brenda, breathing rapid, and just before Brenda could whine or yell at her Officer Raydor sat straight up, back ridged, and then proceeded to remove her shit. Officer Raydor’s bra was indeed cotton, solid in color, black. Brenda took one hand dragged it along Officer Raydor’s smooth skin. Officer Raydor’s breath hitch and together they watched as Brenda’s fingertip moved from the waist band of her slacks to the underwire of her bra, leaving behind a very distinct trail of goosebumps.

“Officer Johnson…” Anything else died in Officer Raydor’s throat as Brenda pushed her so that her shoulder blades met the back of her sofa, kissing the skin of her color bone.

“Brenda.” Brenda looked at Officer Raydor in the eye, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. “My name is Brenda.” Officer Raydor looked at her for a moment, like as though she couldn’t comprehend what Brenda just told her, which she used to her advantage as she undid Officer Raydor’s bra.

“Sh-Sharon!” Officer Raydor, no _Sharon_ , gasped as Brenda’s lips made contact with skin that was once covered by thick cotton material. Sharon continued to moan and wither under Brenda as the blonde continue to press her lips against skin that was new to her. To Sharon it felt like as though Brenda had marked every inch of breast with her lips, leaving nothing untouched by her tongue or lips. Brenda seemed particularly interested in her nipples, tongue swirling around the areola before swiping the flat of her tongue against her nipple.  Brenda then proceeded to do the action over and over again, rotating which nipple she would do it on and her strokes felt random.

In an attempt to gain some control Sharon pushed as hard as she could, she didn’t necessarily want Brenda off, just at create some space so that she could remove the surprisingly thin tank top, it was practically see through and Sharon made a note on acting on this information later on. She still had the way Brenda acted earlier this afternoon to hold against the blonde as well. For now the top of her list of priorities was finding a new spot because the way the back of the couch was pressing against her shoulder blades and the limited space was making the couch quickly lower its appeal.

“Brenda.” The blonde moaned, it was more whimper than moan, when Sharon had succeeded in pulling her away, her hands clung to Sharon’s arms in a last ditched effort to keep the distance that she wanted. Sharon smiled and kissed the little knot in Brenda’s honey colored eyebrow. Brenda continued to whimper and wrapped her arms around Sharon’s neck it an attempt to be closer but Sharon’s hold on her hips was strong and it kept her at a certain distance. Pushing back some blonde curls, Sharon grazed her lips against the blonde’s ear lobe. “I want to fuck you.” Had she not heard it Brenda would not believe that Sharon was the type of person to swear. “And in fifteen seconds I want you on the bed waiting for me to ravish you. Go.” With a pinch to her buttocks Brenda was off like the flash, rounding the corner so hard that the door to her bedroom made an ugly sound when it hit the wall.

When in her bedroom she ran into two problems, the condition of her bed and what in god’s name did Sharon want her to do to be prepared? The solution to the first problem was fixed by pushing everything that was on her bed, sheets and all, onto the floor. Solution number two? She had absolutely no idea.

“Need some help?” Brenda jumped and turned around, her knee hit the mattress and down she went. Looming over her was Sharon, topless and practically glowing in the limited light. With a hand on her hip Sharon moved her so that she was flat on her back, but only for a moment as she lifted her upper body to help Sharon remove the tank top that she had been itching to remove. From there Sharon straddled her, kissing her slowly on the lips as she pushed her back down. On the way down she could feel Sharon pushing down her cotton shorts, letting gravity do the rest when she reached her knees. That left her completely naked and at Sharon’s mercy.

Trailing down her body, Sharon payed the same attention to her breast as she did, if not a little more. Sharon did not simply lick she suckled, taking one of Brenda’s nipples into her mouth and created a space so tight that she gasped when Sharon’s teeth scraped against the sensitive flesh. On the other breast Sharon’s hand kneed, a constant motion of rubbing these tiny circles into the flesh. Between two knuckles she pinched and squeezed her other nipple, the two actions being distinguished only by how and much force was used.  A squeeze was light, almost a massage, and done in the area further up the knuckle. A pinch was sharper, it left a trail of light buzzing before dying, done with either the upper knuckle or fingertip. When they came together, the sucking and the pitching/ squeezing, Brenda arched her back in a way that she thought her spine or neck have would snap and if it wasn’t for Sharon on top of her she would have been completely lifted off the mattress. When Sharon decide to call mercy on her breast, her nipples were red and swollen and there were several red and pink marks all along her breast. Each of these spots pulsed in different degrees and times of pain, but nothing more serious than the after effects of the pinching.

Sharon continued to her way down, making a detour at Brenda’s bellybutton, a fascination that Brenda will never understand. Kneeling on the floor Sharon pulled Brenda forward, just enough so that Brenda’s backside lined with the edge of the mattress. With a hand on each thigh Sharon parted them, just enough so that there was space for her to get into. Brenda’s nether regions were a bright pink, like a barely bloom blush pink rose. Brenda’s thighs were a variety different degree of stickiness, the area just above her knee was smooth but there was some friction from where sweat had come and went. The friction increased as Sharon scaled her hand further up Brenda’s thigh, about half way up there was a defined stickiness to the blonde’s skin, Sharon’s hand no longer glided but skipped for lack of better terms. The stickiness wasn’t like tape where the skin was literally stuck there but more of a soft stick, Sharon could easily lift her hand from Brenda’s skin. In relation to the stick was wet, which was what Sharon really wanted. On her skin the wetness acted like an enhancer, making every touch that she made stronger than before, almost electric under her palm.

For Brenda it was maddening. She could not deal with how detailed oriented Sharon was. How she would linger in doing these minor things before doing the actual bigger action. The woman who said she wanted to fuck her was hesitating.

“For the love of God, could you please just fuck me Sharon.”

“As you wish.” Sharon’s pace didn’t increase, it was still that antagonizing slow pace, but she did move on to the big finish. With her right hand her fingers traced the outline of Brenda’s delicate folds, first with one, going from one lip to the other, then two with one on each side. Brenda let out these painful moans, like as though the pleasure was killing her, and in a way it was because what Sharon was going to her was yes pleasurable but an empty one, it did not build new pleasure but kept the one that she was experiencing at a constant level. With her middle finger Sharon slowly entered Brenda, the blonde’s inner walls almost automatically clamped down on her finger and Brenda had her first orgasm of the night. It wasn’t a powerful one, it was more of a response that Brenda’s body produced to the new wave of pleasure. Brenda’s fluids covered her hand, it made her fingers slick and with ease she was able to enter another finger inside of Brenda without hurting her. She placed her thumb not directly on it but in the small area just below Brenda’s clit, the top of her nail just ever so touched the small bundle of nerves.

Brenda being Brenda tried to get Sharon’s thumb where she wanted it by rotating her hips, it was slightly difficult with how close she was to the edge, and futile. Not to mention that with every movement of her hips she changed how the fingers that were inside her pressed against her inner walls, making moving at all almost impossible. With her one good hand Sharon pushed her hips back down, a silent message of her to remain still, not that she listened. After the third time she found Sharon looming over her, eyes fixed in a hard glare.

“Stay still, you wouldn’t want me to punish you now do you?” Brenda shook her head, blonde curls spilling every which way. Sharon’s hard features turned soft again and she kissed her on that hollow part of her shoulder, the left one this time, most of the earlier damage was done to the right one. Sharon then slip off of her once more, Brenda wished she wouldn’t for the only way she could even entertain the idea of staying still was if Sharon was there on top of her. Apparently Sharon already had a solution, she took Brenda’s left leg and placed it over her shoulder, the crook of her knee resting perfectly on Sharon’s shoulder. This caused a slight elevation to one of her hips and if Sharon kept hold of her leg than her movements would be limited. With that taken care of Sharon returned to more pressing matters.

While one thumb played with that delicate crease where Brenda’s thigh and buttocks met the other was calculating. Sharon did not just want to press her thumb on Brenda’s clit that was the quick way. No, she wanted to know how Brenda reacted. So she took her thumb and swirled it around Brenda’s clit, not touching it but close enough. Brenda withered and wined, she wasn’t in any actual physical pain just that Sharon was being painful in how she pleasured her. Brenda’s wines turned to the start of moan when Sharon applied a little more pressure or when she moved her thumb to the side to let either the side or the top of her thumb actually touch what she was directly ignoring. Then there was this scream, which Brenda produced when Sharon finally, _finally_ , touched her clit. It wasn’t a particularly forceful touch, it was more like Sharon just placed the pad of her thumb on the small nerve and kept it there, which was what she did. Sharon kept her thumb there for few breaths before moving it ever so slightly, making these barely there circular movements. Brenda withered even more, she would be thrashing but thanks to Sharon’s hold on her leg that was near impossible. Slowly Sharon changed certain aspects of her circles, sometimes she added a little more pressure but still kept the pace the same, other times she would increase her speed but kept the same amount of pressure. What tortured Brenda was that Sharon would do a combination of the two, increase both the pressure and the speed, but after circling her clit a few times she would return back to the original speed and pressure. Brenda couldn’t help the tears that formed in her eyes at how unfair Sharon was being.

After using just the clit to deliver new waves of pleasure to Brenda Sharon had decided to move the fingers that she had buried and yet not move inside of the blonde. As she applied a little pressure on the clit she simultaneously slightly move the two fingers apart,  the two action together made her knuckles curl just a little, making her knuckles rub against the lower walls.  Brenda cried then, she was finally getting what she wanted and she thanked god that she was already making noise for it covered the fact that she was crying and she didn’t want Sharon to stop for anything. Sharon kept up that slow pattern, changing only how she moved her fingers, doing either a scissoring motion or a slight pumping. She wanted to do a harder motion but the thought of keeping that constant motion made her arm ache, besides doing such would go against her original plan which was to draw out Brenda’s pleasure for as long as she could. So she kept up those slow motions to see how far she could get as well as how long it would take for Brenda to snap. Brenda’s noises have always been a cross between pleasure and agony but the further she went with the motion the more brought out the agonizing parts were. Stopping now would be a new brand of cruel, not that Sharon had any intention in doing so, but she kept her ears open for any real signs of distress. Slowly Brenda’s walls came closer and closer together, the opening becoming tighter and tighter. The more pressure she applied to Brenda’s clit and the faster she moved her fingers the quicker the walls caved in until Brenda snapped.

Brenda let out this scream that made a slight shiver go down the base of Sharon’s spine, the unravel fast but the shivering effects lingered for long minutes. Brenda’s shivers were almost like spasms, her limps doing these defined jerks that may go down the entire limb or stay at a junction like a shoulder, knee, writs, or ankle. Sharon withdrew herself from Brenda, giving room for the blonde to work out the more violent tremors. She removed her slacks and joined Brenda on the bed for the first time when the jerks came down to a level of shivers. Out of some form of instinct Brenda curled into herself a little, turning herself so that one shoulder was in the air while the other one was pressed into the mattress, her spine was curled a little, and her knees were at a level that it created a diagonal kind of line with her breast. Sharon went to the side of Brenda where she was face to face with her back, roaming a fingertip up and down the blonde’s spine. A normally tensing motion it relaxed those last remaining threads of after waves, as seen when Brenda’s shoulder blades slowly moved away. Brenda flipped completely over to her stomach but move her head so she was looking completely at Sharon.

Brenda’s face was almost a tomato red, area’s like her cheeks were the darkest thanks to the minor sunburn that she had. Her chocolate brown eyes were dark against the almost complete red of the pupil. There were these faint trails on the apple and side of Brenda’s cheeks, the tears dried away but the marks they left remained. With the pad of her thumb Sharon brushed at one, Brenda’s cheek a tiny ball of radiating heat. Brenda hummed and closed her eyes, her humming almost sounding like purring. Sharon’s hand curled around Brenda’s cheek, fingers tangling into blonde curls. Sharon kissed Brenda’s forehead, which was when she heard Brenda’s soft breathing, even and slow. Brenda was asleep, and after wrestling the sheet from the pile on the floor Sharon draped them both with it and she too joined Brenda in slumber.

The morning after was…odd.

Brenda woke up alone, her body balled up in the sheet to keep warm. It wasn’t the first time she had sex with a person and then woke up alone, back when she was “with” Will she had a fifty fifty chance of him staying the night. When he did they will somehow wake up earlier than they needed nor wanted to and as he dressed he would constantly say over and over that it could not happen again, a statement that he would keep for a week or so until he come see her again. The longest he was gone was almost a month but that was because he was on assignment and not because he wanted to, it was the only time he spent the weekend. When it came to him leaving she would almost push him out, feeling like he would sometimes delay the inevitable; lingering in her bathroom, waiting for the coffee, or the one that she absolutely hated and had actually kicked him out for was when he would do mundane tasks at a snail’s pace, like as though he had to talk himself through the actions. So she got up to face the day.

All around her were signs of Sharon’s departure. Her robe was still damp. Several of the items in her bathroom have been moved, no longer were they skewed but actually organized, not hastily but thought out. There was half a pot of coffee still remaining, it was slightly burnt but it was hot which was what mattered, and her kitchen was cleared, not clean but it was better than what it was before. It was strange for her, having these tells that there was another person actually in her home, Will would search top and bottom for things that he might of left behind and contact with her things was limited. Never in a million years would Will organize her bathroom or run her dish washer for her back pile of dirty dishes.

There was however one disadvantage to Sharon’s need for organization, she couldn’t find the honey! Brenda swore up and down to herself that she did in fact have a good amount of honey left, about half a bottle, and yet it was not next to the coffee pot where she kept it. The sugar was there, the packets all aligned in a neat little jar but the honey had vanished. She checked the overhead cabinets, nothing, there wasn’t much there to begin with. Her trash had been cleared, a new bag created great big white void. The honey was nowhere in sight and she refused to drink her coffee black, as a police officer it was prudent that she be used to bad coffee but at home she wanted her coffee her way and that meant honey. With a scoff she went on the search for something else to drink.

In her fridge was the half bottle of wine and a nearly empty carton of orange juice. She picked up the orange juice and shook it, only a small part of the bottom sloshed. A nearly empty container that for some reason she kept. Nonetheless she took it and leaning against the counter she to a swig right out of the carton, the heavy pulp concentrated sludge sent a chill down her spine as it went.

“Drinking out of the carton Brenda seriously?” Brenda coughed and took the carton away from her as some of it tried to enter into her nose. In a disapproving gaze stood Sharon, dressed in the black t-shirt she wore the night before along with a pair of exercise pants, black with a strip of gold on the side, and glasses perched on her nose. Brenda looked at both the glasses and the pants in question. The pants were not hers, judging by size she was a lot smaller than Sharon so anything that she had would not fit the brunette, and she remembered Sharon standing on her door step without her glasses, bringing the question of why and how. Sharon took the carton away from her as she walked into the kitchen. She stirred it, then tipped it over, the limited contents pouring into the sink before trashing it.

“Hey, I was drinking that.”

“One there was barely anything in there and two I left you coffee why don’t you have that?” Brenda huffed and crossed her arms, plumb lips forming a pout.

“Because you decided to reorganize my kitchen and moved the honey.”

“I doubt that you could have called the previous state of your kitchen as organized.” Sharon set the bag that she had in her left hand down on the counter. “Did you check the fridge?”

“The fridge?” Brenda half mumbled under her breath, opening the fridge door. The cold air beat against her bare skin as she scanned the shelfs, this time closer, which wasn’t hard. “I don’t see it.”

“Did you try on the side of the door?” Brenda jumped and turned around quickly to have Sharon in front of her and her back to the fridge, it created a contrast with the way Sharon’s sudden breath warmed it and the quick cooling. The fridge door open wide Brenda could see that indeed her bear shaped jar of honey was there, on the top shelf laying on its side. Brenda picked the jar up, letting the thick amber liquid both settle and warm under her palm. “You should learn to put things away.”

“This was in its rightful spot, you just moved it from it.” Sharon paused, stopping what she was doing and looking up at nothing before turning her head to the side to sideways glance at Brenda.

“You put honey in your coffee?”

“Yes.” Brenda’s answer was crisp, said in one breath as she turned to get the coffee mug that she took out yet not used. Since the coffee was burnt just a little she used an extra swirl of honey, she measured the amount by how many times she circled the cup, two was her usual number but she did three. The honey sunk, which was normal, but then it stayed together a little, which wasn’t completely unusual it just to a few extra stirs to really break the mass apart.

“Well I can say that is a first for me. I hope you don’t mind but I got some things from that little market a few blocks down and I can quickly make omelets or scrambled eggs with vegetables, did you have a preference?”

“Not really.” Sharon nodded and reached for the pans that Brenda had stuffed into the oven. The several pots and pans were a gift from her mother, she got the old ones and her mom bought newer ones, she said it had something to do with tradition or something that Brenda only halved remembered.

Unlike her Sharon moved around her kitchen like she knew where everything was and more importantly how to use it. No matter how hard Brenda worked she just wasn’t any good in the kitchen, she was lucky that her high school had actually lost the budget to have a home ec, a bullet that she just scarcely missed. Sharon was the exact opposite, she took an egg and with one hand perfectly broke the shell with the side of the pan, the yoke spilling perfectly into the bowl so she could beat it with a fork. The end products were actually edible, they didn’t taste like cardboard with a strong after taste, no the flavor of the eggs were actually brought out just a little with the tomato, basil, and peppers that Sharon but into it, making a snap of flavor before it went away, no burning of the mouth.

Brenda cleaned, in fact she volunteered to do so, and Sharon watched her the entire time as she scrubbed the pan and dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. Brenda believed it was the fact that she in turn _can_ do these things and that she just _forgets_ to do them. It was just easier to live on take out then go shopping once a week or so and cook a meal after working a long beat. Sharon didn’t stick around to see Brenda finished and yet she somehow knew that she had finished, the second that Brenda placed the last plate into the dishwasher Sharon called her into the bathroom.

“Sit.”  Sharon did not give any direction to where she wanted Brenda, just continued to look at the several products that Brenda knew were not hers in the small area of the counter top. Brenda took two attempts to see where she was needed to be, the edge of the tub earned her a click of the tongue and the toilet earned her that eyebrow raised she despised. The only place left was the counter, so she hopped on, the edge of the sink creating an uneven surface and the porcelain made her shiver. “Take your shirt off.”

“Wh-w-why?” Almost protectively Brenda wrapped her arms around her torso, balling the sides of the fabric in her fist. After showering Brenda had put the pajamas that were discarded on her bedroom floor back on, she didn’t like the draft that came with only a robe. Sharon stepped in full front of her, her hard gaze locking directly with hers.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Either you do it yourself or I do it.” Though it sounded kind of nice Brenda doubt that it would be the same as last night. With a shaky breath Brenda removed her top, revealing the several small bruises spotting her breast. Some were bigger than others, but they were all oddly shaped and in the case of the smaller ones, dark in color. Her nipples were still a red color, which was a far cry from their normal blush pink tone. Sharon sighed and reached for a tube that was in the little pile, coating her hands in thick cloudy white liquid. Without any hesitation or warning Sharon ran her hand along Brenda’s breast, making small circles with the heel of her palms. She did this twice, the applying then the circles, until Brenda’s breast had a thin coat of the ointment on them, leaving them shiny and sticky. “You can put your shirt back on.” When Brenda did the material clung to her skin, creating a nice outline of her breast. Brenda did not move from her spot on the counter, not even when Sharon turned the faucet one, lightly splashing her hip as she washed her hands. After drying, re folding, and placing the towel back on the rack Sharon placed herself in front of Brenda again, bushing a golden curl back. “What’s wrong?” Brenda didn’t answer, just looked up at her with these sad kind of eyes and then wrapped her limbs around her, face nuzzling her neck. Sharon smiled to herself and wrapped her own arms around Brenda’s torso, bringing them close together. After a while it became obvious that Brenda wasn’t going to lighten up anytime soon. “Brenda.”

“No.” The response was muffled, the only way Sharon heard it was because Brenda was near her ear.

“I cannot exactly carry you.” Brenda tighten her hold on her, making it harder to break away and the different feel in material was more obvious. Sharon sighed in defeat and with her hands right below Brenda’s butt cheeks she lifted the blonde off the counter. Despite her small frame Brenda was compact, making her heavy, and Sharon could only make it to the bed before her legs gave out. Brenda let out a something that sounded like a squeak before curling herself around Sharon. Sharon just smiled and kissed the top of Brenda’s forehead before relaxing, letting Brenda’s soft breathing sooth her.

It was a feeling that she could easily fall into but a tiny voice in the back of her head reminded her that _you can’t_.

And so it went.

Brenda and Sharon were partnered on and off with each other, the parings normally being a few times a month. It was toxic, working together, they would clash in this horrible way that made it hard to work until they would crash together in a pleasurable friction. Together they did things that they would never even consider. Heavily make out session that almost turned into a full blown quickie in a public bathroom while still in uniform, at least they were off duty. Sharon going down on Brenda in an all but deserted ally in the patrol car. Brenda returning the favor by fingering Sharon in a shower stall with the threat of being discovered. There were several others, when they were on duty alone, but the biggest impacts came when they would all but crash into Brenda’s apartment, both knowing how it was going to start and end.

In all but one of those cases Brenda all but willingly submitted to the over power presence of Sharon. Every time Brenda almost knowingly did something that would make Sharon just that bit harder and she faced a punishment that she did not resist. It was the need for punishment that was new to Brenda as was the need to be the enforcer to Brenda was for Sharon. Never in her life did Sharon feel like as though she needed to be forceful with another human, especially one that was her on and off again sexual partner.

Their second partnership ended violently, or at least Sharon thought it did. During their route Brenda took part in actions that could have gotten her written up. In the course of following up a routine traffic stop Brenda got lippy with a difficult driver, almost out right threatening to place him under arrest just because he wasn’t doing what she wanted. Sharon had to pull Brenda away, whispering to her harshly to wait in the patrol car, which she did with a pout on her lips. It did turn out that the driver was indeed wanted for questioning and they had to bring him in, but that didn’t mean that Brenda had to almost verbally accost him. It was deadly territory, if he had said something then it would become an issue with the courts because Brenda was only an Officer, not a detective, and by baiting him she was setting up a lot of people for failure.

After handing the suspect over Sharon out right grabbed Brenda by her elbow and frog marched her back to her apartment. In quick motions Sharon had undone the belt, button, and zipper of Brenda’s uniform pants before finding the blonde sprawled across her lap, pants around her ankles and panties around her knees. She hadn’t even know she done it, not until she was looking at Brenda’s glowing red butt cheeks, the blonde crying and mumbling several combinations of ‘I’m sorry’. Sharon didn’t say anything, just helped Brenda compose herself, she wanted to leave before the backlash. However Brenda did everything but that, she didn’t push Sharon out or yelled at her when she calmed down, just continue to hang on her for dear life, like as though if she didn’t than Sharon would disappear forever.

They came to an understanding after that. Brenda gave Sharon almost complete freedom to punish her in any way that seemed fit. Like the first time Sharon contemplated, it was better for her if she did refuse, what she did crossed a line that she didn’t want to go over again. Though despite this fear they became softer with each other. It started with an actual civilized public relationship, meaning they could finally look and work with each other and not having it end in bruises and emptiness and regrets. The main aspect of their relationship stayed the same, they had sex and a lot of it, but there was this tenderness that was in the act that neither of them expected.

On the one day that they were both off in the last threads of summer Brenda dragged them to the beach, the reasons unknown to both. To Sharon it didn’t exactly mater, her parents were away and she could use the small beach house for one night. Brenda liked the quietness of the beach, they wasted the hours just sitting on the pouch steps in each other presence, venturing only to stand in or walk by the water. Their night together was less about sex and more about the feel. The feel fingers intertwining and running through hair. The way their lips moved and parted against each other. The feeling of freshly washed and sun kissed skin under fingertips. Brenda started to cry when she touched her, it came on so suddenly and strongly. Brenda’s reason was unknown, not that she could give one, and she couldn’t remember why.

All she could remember was this feeling of dread.

Almost a year after their first time Sharon knocked on Brenda’s door like she had done countless times before. The look on her face immediately told Brenda that something was seriously wrong. It took Sharon five pain staking minutes to tell her the news.

“I can’t see you anymore Brenda.” Like a heavy rock Brenda fell onto her couch, it gave a rather loud crack when she did.

“W-w-why?”

“Because I can’t have my husband finding out.”

“You care about that now!?”

“I should have been when I started but things change when you are having a child.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Twelve weeks.” Tears started to stream down the side of Brenda’s face and she cursed herself for doing so, for some reason Sharon always seemed to do that to her. “Brenda.” Sharon sighed and took Brenda into her arms, letting the blonde cry freely into the fabric of her shirt. “I’m so sorry it had to end like this. I want to make things better but I don’t know how.”

“Make love to me one last time, slowly so that I will always remember.”

“As you wish.”

Sharon did just that, her movements matching almost exactly as the first time but with the touch as knowing every part of her. Her lips every left Brenda’s skin, always there doing somethings, wanting their fill of the last taste that was Brenda. Throughout the whole thing Brenda cried, sometimes with tears but it was mostly just these painful sounds that mixed with her normal sound of pleasure. At the end of it all Sharon held her, the last time that she would even fall asleep in Sharon’s strong embrace, but it did nothing to mask the emptiness that she felt. The feeling of dread that was there since the beach. Sharon left her with one last token, one last kiss, before she left, neither of them looking back for they knew what they would see if they did.

Words that were never said shone brightest in the brink of pain.


End file.
